In a dark AU, Logan, his lady
love, and their friends fight
for a better world.

Title: The Pack

Author: Pat Phillips

Rating & characters:
Rated R,
Logan/Yuriko, Marie, Hank, Rahne

I don't own the characters of Logan,
Yuriko, Marie, Hank, or Rahne. Instead,
they are the property of Marvel Comics.

Likewise, I've used some concepts from
the "World of Darkness" role-playing game.
That game system is the property of the
White Wolf game company.

As a firm believer in property rights,
it's only reasonable that I specify that
my use of these characters and concepts
should in no way be interpreted as a
threat to their actual ownership by the
indicated companies.

All of my fan fiction, including this story,
is a not-for-profit venture. After all, when
you get down to it, who would pay for this
stuff?

This is an AU which is a crossover between
the movie version of the X-Men and a cut-
down version of the "World of Darkness"
role-playing game background. It's a sequel
to my other fic, "X-V".

THE PACK

Hank McCoy jumped into the cab of the truck and started the engine.
Then he spent a long moment consulting a map.

The other door opened. A young girl with short red hair and wild
green eyes crawled into the cab of the truck.

"Rahne," Hank said with a startled grin.

The girl said nothing, she merely grabbed the big man by the
shoulders and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"I'm riding with you," she said once she had broken her kiss with
Hank. Her voice had a strong Scottish accent.

Hank winced, "Rahne, you can't..."

"I'm riding with you. Someone has to take care of you, you big oaf,"
the girl said flatly as she kicked snow from her legs and feet. She
was wearing a coat that looked a dozen sizes too big for her. But
despite that -- and the intense cold outside -- her calves and feet
were bare.

Hank sighed. He just didn't have time to argue.

*****

Logan, Mac, and Colin waited patiently in the woods at the far side
of the bridge. Behind them, a dozen other wolves hunkered down in
the trees and waited with them.

Scouts were patrolling the area. Heather was with them.

A high-pitched whine came from several of the scouts. A breeze
flickered down the highway. Fourteen muzzles and one nose tested the
wind. The enemy was here.

*****

The logging-truck rumbled down the highway. Hank check his GPS
receiver, a radio with an LCD display, and his wristwatch, and then
consulted the map again. They had plenty of time.

He glanced at Rahne. One more try.

"Rahne, please get out. I've got enough things to worry about."

The girl was curled up on the seat next to him, swimming in her huge
jacket. He tried to ignore her partially revealed legs. She smiled
and opened the coat slightly, revealing more than just legs.

Hank snapped his eyes forward, ordering himself to look at the road.

"One more word from you, Hank, and I'll do something very shocking,"
Rahne said with a grin.

Hank cursed -- in Latin, Greek, German, and French.

*****

On a hill overlooking the bridge, the ex-Marine braced his rifle on
it's bipod, rested his cheek against the stock of the weapon, and
turned on the thermal sight.

The half-dozen men with him also found cover. There was the harsh
sound of a round being chambered into an M-60 machinegun. The ammo-
handler shook out a belt of ammunition. The security troops crouched
in their hidden positions, shotguns ready.

The sniper was covering the bridge. The machinegun was facing the
other way, covering the road, just in case there were unexpected
reinforcements behind the enemy convoy.

The man behind the machinegun had been a priest once upon a time. He
quietly recited the Lord's Prayer.

When he was done, everyone said amen.

*****

The three vehicles rolled past Logan and his wolves and began
crossing the narrow bridge at fifty miles an hour. The wolves edged
forward. Logan growled a warning and they all held their place.

The first vehicle in the convoy began frantically blaring it's horn.
The truck coming the other way had rumbled onto the far end of the
bridge at eighty miles an hour -- and had finally flicked on it's
lights as it continued accelerating down the middle of the bridge.

The hunters' three vehicles were trapped. They couldn't turn and
there was no time to stop and reverse. They all frantically hit the
brakes.

Two forms exploded out from either side of the truck cab and leaped
completely off the bridge, into the dark waters of the river below.
The logging truck was now an unguided missile.

The impact was incredible. The first of the vehicles in the hunter
convoy was ground into fragments -- utterly destroyed. The truck
skewed to one side and began scraping sparks against the girders on
both sides of the bridge. But the momentum of the truck was still
massive and it hit the second vehicle like a pile driver, flipping it
over and then breaking it in half. Screaming figures were thrown
free and then ground into the wreckage.

The last vehicle in the convoy fared the best. But it was still bad.

Logan watched without expression as the tangled pile of wreckage
finally ground to a halt. Most of the enemy were already dead. But
not all. And not the worst of them.

Out on the bridge, a few incredibly tough figures staggered to their
feet or tore themselves from the wreckage. One began screaming
orders to the others.

His head exploded. The remaining vampires dove for cover.

Logan's claws popped out. As he walked out of the woodline and onto
the highway, the pack followed him. Half of them were wolves, as
they had always been. But the remainder were now walking on two legs.

*****

Shivering, Hank and Rahne staggered from the ice-choked river. Rahne
was now in a transitional form halfway between wolf and human. That
shape lacked the sheer speed and heightened senses of her pure-wolf
form, but was far stronger than either her human or wolf form.

Heather was waiting for them on the river bank. She whined in
concern.

"We're OK," Rahne told her.

A man stepped out of the darkness. He was carrying a heavy sniper
rifle.

"Hell of a job, Hank," said the man with the rifle as he slung his
weapon and began digging dry clothes from a backpack.

"It reminded me a lot of my first driving lesson," muttered Hank
through chattering teeth as he began peeling off his wet clothes.

"Remind me to do the driving the next time we go to Calgary," said
the ex-Marine as he handed Hank a heavy towel.

Both men ignored Rahne's attempts to whistle at the sight of Hank's
body. Whistling is hard to do when you have more muzzle than mouth.
Heather lolled on her back beside Rahne, while Rahne scratched her
stomach.

"How's it looking on the bridge, Frank?" asked Hank.

"It's all over. I took out the leader -- for a second it looked like
he might actually get the others organized. Logan and the boys
finished up the rest in no time. I wish they were all this easy."

*****

The radio in front of Yuriko popped twice. She picked it up.

"Yes?"

"It's over," came Logan's voice.

"Casualties?"

"A lot of injuries on our side, but nobody dead. Hank is patching up
everyone who needs it right now. None of the bad-guys got out alive."

Yuriko sighed in relief, then she glanced at the two ghouls who had
been sent as scouts. They were still at the next table. Still not
watching her and Marie.

"What do you want me to do with two who are here?"

"They're small fry. Throw them back," Logan replied.

"OK. I'm looking forward to having you home, love."

"It's going to be a couple of days. But the same here, darling."

The radio went silent.

Yuriko got to her feet and glanced at the girl sharing her
table, "Wait here, Marie."

Marie nodded.

Yuriko walked over to the table occupied by the two ghouls and sat
down. Both men froze in shock, staring at her.

"You two are all that's left. All the rest are dead," said Yuriko.

The two ghouls looked at one another. One licked his lips and
glanced at the door, trying to figure his chances if he ran.

"We're going to let you live," continued Yuriko. "Go back and tell
those who sent you to stay out of the north. It's ours. And the
girl is under our protection. She is to be left alone. Do you
understand?"

Both ghouls nodded.

"Get out."

The ghouls bolted for the door.

Marie watched them leave, then she got to her feet and walked over to
Yuriko.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Logan sent a message. We'll have to see if the Clans listen. I
rather doubt they will."

Yuriko examined the younger woman, "I'm sorry, Marie. But this is
your home now."

Marie looked at Yuriko, and then at the shabby bar around her.

"It grows on you," she said.

*****

Logan stood on the crest of a tall hill, staring south. He wasn't
moving. He'd been like that for a solid half-hour.

Around Logan, the wolves, werewolves, men, and mutants who followed
him waited patiently. Logan called the shots. If he needed some
time to think things over, that was fine with everyone.

Colin was one of Logan's closest advisors. They had been friends
since that day fifteen years earlier when Colin and his pack had half-
dragged and half-led the almost dead Logan and Yuriko to a cave. In
the cave, they had covered the pair with their own bodies to protect
them from the cold until the blizzard blew over. That relationship
with Logan gave Colin both the right and the duty to interrupt the
pack leader when it might be necessary.

Colin nodded, "It was coming. We all knew that. And we're stronger
than we've ever been."

It was true. Fifteen years ago, the packs had been dying off as they
were remorselessly hunted down. The few men in the north who had
known the truth had been half-mad loners, isolated and dreading the
fall of night. The mutants had been ignorant, persecuted, and alone -
- victims waiting for the inevitable.

Logan had changed all that. He brought the packs back from the brink
and united the men and mutants. He built something that could fight
back. He built something that had a chance.

You could call it a kingdom.

"OK," said Logan, "get everyone ready to go. Send a message to
Ephraim's pack and tell him to get off his ass. And tell Castle to
get his people on the move. We'll hit Devil's Flat tomorrow and
clean out the nest there."

Colin nodded and began drifting back to the others.

"Oh, Colin, one more thing," said Logan.

Colin cocked an ear back to Logan.

"Have someone spank Rahne and send her home."

Colin laughed and walked away.

Logan looked south for another long moment. He reached inside his
shirt and pulled out the tags that were on a chain around his neck.
They read, "458-25-244 Deathstrike". As always, when he missed her,
Logan ran his thumb over the tags.

"Damn you, Stryker," he said quietly. "Damn you and thank you."

Then he replaced the tags and walked back to his people.

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